Aftermaths
by Al D. Baran ou Pervy Otaku
Summary: After the fall of their home kingdom, Alfred and Arthur find themselves escaping an Empire set to destroy magic. Arthur, being a high mage, is in great danger. Over that, they must manage their new relationship, and the difficulties that come with it. UsUk, past FrUk.


_I am ''slightly'' obsessed by Skyrim so it might show. This will be in a few parts because I am a slow ass (: I'm French so don't be too harsh on my grammar and stuff, okay ? My language is obviously superior to your barbaric dialect (haha, kidding.) FrUk is simply a past thing. It's not gonna be too much of a huge deal but yeah it like imposed itself somehow._ _Goddamn you, otp._

 _If something is wildly innacurate or wrong in uh... anything, please, do tell me._

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The soft carpet of moss beneath their feet made travel easier. Woods were unsure at this time of the year—or well, at any time since the Empire had taken control of these parts, putting them in a rule that Arthur only assumed was a distant dystopia that would stay in the North. Yet, here they were, in the woods, just as bears came out of the sleep with their babes. Wolves too, would be sure to hunt for them. Or soldiers. Arthur wasn't sure which one would be worst to find at the moment, as they were hungry and had walked all day. Any kind of wolves would have been the death of them. They walked with weapons readied and quick to be drawn, his bow in hand and his body almost lit under his robes through the magic he made sure could be fired at any moment they would need.

This was just what had put them in troubles for so many months. The Empire; a large country made out of its annexed minions, where starvation was something often seen, and nobles had little idea of how villeins of remote parts of the country died of hunger. They were mechanical, valuing warriors over anything else, and had started a war on magic. Their birth kingdom had been a small one, settled between two mountains on the seaside. Magic had been something powerful there, something everyone treasured and treated like an art; of course, strength had never been spit upon, but people like Alfred without magic in them were pitied. The Mage's Guild where Arthur had been considered a highly ranked professor had welcomed him as a guard. And then, some time after, the Empire had attacked.

Everything had been left in ruins. The white stones towers of the town had fell, crushing thousand of years of knowledge due to the growing fear of the strong magic of the smaller countries. The Emperor feared; sitting on his throne of marble and rubies, he feared without end that mages and wizards from various countries would overthrow him. Friends had died; Arthur remember a man's company he secretly enjoyed, a rich heir who funded his research, whom he had tried to save, only to come too late. Already dead. Like most he knew. If Alfred laid his hopes and channelled his fury through dreams of revenge, Arthur knew better; they would never be able to do anything about it.

They were only two poor refugees, fleeing and chased for his magic. They were two against a millions hungry, indoctrinated soldiers. It was delusional to think they could win... and he felt numb. Numbed by nightmares of the explosions of canons and catapults, the screams and the deafening sounds of stone crumbling. It hurt. He was hungry, weak and pained; something that no one in countries were science was regarded as forbidden magic would see as anything else but a monster. Even in their home country... it was a secret; an oddness, something pitied.

Alfred was walking before him, his large back covered by the leather of his armour, the chain-mail under tinkling as he moved. The herbs weren't too tall around there, but many times, he slipped in his leather boots; the moss gave out under his weight, revealing sleek rocks under them. The exhaustion showed on his face; red cheeks and sweat pearling on his temples, Arthur could only imagine how hot it was under the many layers of leather and metal he was wearing, as well as his heavy two-handed sword and the equipment he carried. For a second, he regretted the fact they were no rangers; surviving in a forest with little skills was harder than anyone would expect. Nonetheless, with the moss and the spring giving life to the land, Arthur had been able to hit many deers right in the eyes. They had ate; often with no fire to make sure no one would notice them.

It had been two days since he had seen any, now.

Arthur felt tired; hunger was stabbing his stomach, used to eating more than enough before, and now forced to either eat deers or foxes. Their meat wasn't as tender as cattle, and Arthur had never gotten out of city walls. Alfred wasn't the best cook, and somewhat clumsy. Being used to cooking pots and fire, Arthur had decided to cook, and Alfred seemed to rather enjoy the food he made. It was crispy and he wished they could have kept more now, but there was only so little they could carry without spices to keep the meat from turning bad. His stomach grumbled at the mere thought of food along with a painful sensation, and Arthur groaned. The sun was setting. If they didn't find a good shelter or see a deer before an hour or so, it would soon be three days without food. His throat was parched too; the tiny gulps he could get from his lukewarm gourd did little to ease the dryness.

Going close to the river would have been suicide—war ships and such must have still been around to secure other kingdoms and republic around the sea.

Tripping over a few hidden roots between moss and fallen leaves, Arthur let out a rather embarrassing yelp, falling forward as he dropped his bow and arrow, the rest of them in his quiver quickly poured out all around him. Grumbling and cursing every trees he could see, the mage looked at his scratched hands. It burned, but his rather insignificant skills regeneration magic healed them in a moment, leaving small, pink circles in his palms. Starting to pick the arrows up and everything that had fell around him, he noticed Alfred had sheathed his sword and was starting to help him.

"We need to stop for today," he said. They spoke so little his voice was almost hoarse.

Arthur sighed, looking around, seeing no shelter around. Maybe they could find a tree who's roots had lifted, and under... somewhere to hide from the rain. Spring always brought its load of water, and Arthur didn't feel like being soaked.

"I know. Find a place for us to stay." And food.

"Easier said than done, you know." As if he didn't knew. Alfred smiled however, hunger clear in his eyes and behaviour. They were tired and if they got in a fight now, they would never last even a minute. Giving him a bunch of arrows to place back in his quiver, Alfred turned around again.

"I know. We slept on roots for days now... my back hurts."

Alfred didn't answer this time, focused on looking around for a shelter for the night. Turning around to look at the milky white sky, the scholar sighed, and started walking again, this time, careful for roots.

As the sky had darkened, the early darkness of the forest had revealed to be a storm—the downpour had lasted for an hour, forcing them to run. Quickly enough, they were right next to the Syan river. It was almost impossible to see the other side, but manoeuvring around the rocky cliffs for a moment had allowed them to find a shelter in a cave. Shaking and cold to the bones due to the rain that seemed to last forever, Arthur had almost stumbled down on the rocks, dragging himself away from the pouring rain and leaned against the wall of the cave. Able to concentrate and now that they were away from the view, Arthur pressed his hands together to create a small ball of light, illuminating the cave and Alfred, the warrior falling next to him with a small laugh.

Water dripped over his cheeks and nose, his hair stuck to his forehead but for the curl that wouldn't go down. A drop of rain clung to his nose and as he shook his head and smiled, turning to him, and nudged his side. Almost hypnotised, Arthur would have been startled, but the warrior merely said, "We don't need to wash any more, it seems. I was starting to smell."

Shaking his head, Arthur said, teeth chattering, "Umpf. You still smell. Go back there."

"Aw. What, is it your menses ? Are you in a bad mood ? Want me to kiss it better ?" Alfred leaned in to press a kiss to his nose, and Arthur did something akin to a turtle pushing its head back inside its shell, and pushed the other's face away.

He still had trouble adapting to their relationship. It was hidden; men couldn't love each others, and Arthur felt very much like one. Alfred seemed to love him... and it had only been a few weeks; a month at best. It felt odd to be like this with the warrior, to kiss and let him hold him. It had happened to him before, but Arthur was sure he just needed to adapt to it. He knew he loved Alfred, and that he didn't care if he had, well... too much down there. It seemed that somehow, he was a cross between a man and a woman, Arthur himself wasn't sure how much of which, and didn't really care. In his head, he was a man, and that was more important than anything else.

Coming from a wealthy family, he had been raised a girl first; his mother was a strict one—he didn't feel like saying harpy—, and his father rather... well, yielding. A nice man, even if he wasn't ever strict enough, or at all. As his mother had died, the man had tried to understand his predicament. He had been eight, and the man already had six others sons, and had taken his hands sweetly. He had been ten, and he had assured him he could be whatever he wanted. What was down there didn't matter. So he had chosen to become a mage, and be a man. If it had took longer for his brothers to accept, they had all been rahter young, and they had other things to be mad about. As much as they fought, Arthur was glad they had accepted.

It hadn't always been so from others. Mages were uptight about who could learn, and gender seemed to be important. If a woman was great at war spells of the destruction kind, she would be told to lay it down, and start learning regeneration and illusion spells. That it wasn't proper.

"Fuck off. I don't need to get those to be mad. Plus, you're annoying as always." It was playful banter.

Alfred noticed how cold he seemed, and seemed to hesitate for a second before he turned to some small branches he had tied to his bag, and placed them on the ground. They were rather wet, but this wasn't the worst problem. Getting closer, Arthur pressed Alfred back, and let out a small fireball to light the branches. As cold as he was, he turned to a study he had in his bag. The water had made the ink drip all over it, but it was mainly dry. Adding the parchment to the fire, he waited for it to take.

"I uh, I guess you should take off your clothes... I mean, you look cold. I know you hate it but... yeah. I mean, we're together and I won't do anything."

Maybe Alfred had guessed he would have kept his clothes unless he mentioned it. Groaning, the Briton looked to himself, and placed his bags behind him. The cavern was fairly small, so there wasn't much place at all. It had always took him time to be comfortable doing anything, especially showing himself. Alfred had been remarkably understanding until now, and the mage weighed the idea for a moment.

"You'll get sick," Alfred added.

Turning around with a glare, Arthur hissed, "What, you want to see me naked ?"

Surprised at first, the warrior eventually seemed to become a little bashful. "Well..." he started, and smiled, a little uncomfortable. "We are... uh, we're together so... I'd like to, one day. But now, you're cold and wet so. I just don't want you to be sick."

There was a silence. Alfred was right—of course—for once, and Arthur definitely didn't like that. Turning around to start unlacing his cloaks and robes, Arthur looked to the bind he put around his chest. This too, was rather soaked, and he hadn't too it off for a while. Annoyance adding over it again, the Briton unlaced it too, the tight laces on his side hard to reach. He looked over his shoulder to see Alfred had turned around, being thankfully quite understanding about this whole matter, and Arthur noticed him shedding his clothes too. He reminded himself to put a spell on the chain-mail so it wouldn't rust, and returned to his soaked boots, and pushed his clothes in a ball near the fire, wrapping his arms around himself to hide, and crossed his legs in front of him, attempting to hide his genitals without much success.

Alfred had turned around, eyes darting between his face and the storm outside, a hand covering his own crotch. The warrior smiled, trying to make him feel a little better, but Arthur ignored him. It felt odd... he felt unfit, especially next to Alfred, who had muscles everywhere making valleys and hills on his skin. The fire gave his darker, tanned skin a golden glow, and Arthur felt like a breakable, porcelain doll next to him. A farce, even. He shivered now, the small fire not achieving to warm him up, and Alfred came closer to hold him, slowly slipping one arm around his shoulders, waiting for him to feel, but pulled him close as soon as he didn't.

There was a silence again. Arthur felt tense, unsure why he couldn't relax, and Alfred tried to reassure him, "Arthur... I love you, okay ? Being naked... it doesn't mean it's sexual, you know, I—"

"Alfred. Stop... stop acting as if I'm a maiden. I... am not a virgin. I'm not scared of you or... sexual situations."

"Oh." Did he just bust his fantasies of the knight in shining armour being the first one to take the lovely maiden he had set eyes upon ? Arthur smiled as he turned around to look at the warrior's pout. He was warm... tick and and strong, and Arthur knew Alfred was the epitome of the adamant knight, protector of the orphan and the widow. Perhaps should he had been born a knight where they were revered, and he smiled again, laying his head against his biceps.

"It's just... we're in the forest and... I don't like being uncovered." Especially next to a man like his... well, love. He still needed to remind himself. Even if he had been naked with another man before, it felt awkward. The only person he had ever been with had been good to make people feel at ease; there had been something in the way he smile and something in his eyes. Alfred didn't make him uncomfortable; the novelty of it, and the length of time that had passed since the last time he had been intimate were. "And... we have just started being... you know—"

"Lovers, yeah, I know... I don't really know how to act with you," Alfred said."

"You're doing better than me, I keep... being mean and yelling at you like a subordinate. And you never say anything about it." It felt easy to talk when no one was around to hear, and when they were like this. Turning around to press a kiss to his lover's lips, the mage smiled a little, before he stopped, and looked down to his knees.

There was another silence. Arthur wondered what Alfred was thinking, before he said, "It's okay and... you know, I um... never been with anyone." Arthur turned around with a frown, unsure what he meant by this. The mage himself had only ever been with one person, but Alfred carried on. "I'm a virgin, sorry I assumed you were too because you are really well... shy about all this." Oh... well, that explained how adamant and painfully nice and patient he was about everything. For a second, he bitterly wondered if he would shift his ground and become more pushy, but this seemed too different from the Alfred he knew.

"It's okay. You're only nineteen, Alfred. I was twenty-two, so... if you feel old, I was even more." And he had been set on never having sex. His lover had had to coax him very gently through every parts with the patience of a saint; starting over any time he clenched and panicked about everything. He had grown to fear sex, to fear intimacy. Even now, he wasn't sure how he had had been able to be so patient. To wait for him without meeting anyone else. To just... wait and reassure him, to love him even when fear put venom more than velvet on his tongue. Becoming somewhat silent for a second, the mage turned to Alfred, who watched him intently.

"Warriors like me usually get girls all the time. It's not for lack of occasion, I just... always loved you."

Arthur felt a tingly warmth inside his chest, and tried to make it sound like he was taking the news with less joy than he was, and said, "You're not like other warriors. I wouldn't like you if you were." They were mostly disgusting, hairy and thick-skulled and muscular men, who had little redeeming qualities but a low price for their swords. Alfred was different... he was handsome, young and caring. Arthur knew how much he loved him, and turned around again to press a kiss to the corner of his lips. The warrior blushed and gave out a dumb laugh, and he rolled his eyes, but fondly.

They stopped talking, but the silence was more comfortable, and Arthur didn't feel the need to speak. He felt less the need to hide, and looked to himself, before he uncrossed his arms—not that there was much to hide anyway. His breasts were a modest size; they barely pressed to his ribs, their swell easy to hide. He had been told they were cute; the nipples a pale pink. It was so girlish Arthur almost felt ashamed, but he had to admit they were rather nice when he didn't feel too complexed about himself. Alfred seemed to try not to stare, looking anywhere but to them, and Arthur smiled at his lover's behaviour. It was cute, and Arthur found himself feeling something akin to endearment. This boy seemed to be far too set on making sure he felt safe and comfortable... Arthur almost felt sorry for him.

"Alfred, please. Stop that. You can look. It's not gonna kill any of us." He didn't even feel embarrassed at the idea.

Not yet, at least.

Staring was a different matter, but since the warrior wasn't a monster, Arthur just laid against him, not minding as he other seemed to look, curiously. Closing his eyes to enjoy the other's heat, the mage snuggled against his side, and felt his stomach cramp. He was still hungry... hopefully they would be able to fish for some food. Hunt even. Gather fruits.

Whatever would have to do.

"They are cute," Alfred said, swallowing, apparently unsure of how to act.

"Thank you... I heard that before." It was slightly awkward not to answer such things with an half-hearted insult... but Alfred probably didn't knew it meant nothing, or would think it was something he shouldn't mention.

The warrior's free hand moved to his knee, and Arthur looked to him, noticing his body. Strong thighs... muscles everywhere. A cock larger than his last lover had been, even when his size had been more than respectable. Arthur felt a slight, old feeling of fear; if they ever got to... well, this part—he wanted to share this with Alfred, too—, he wondered how that would feel inside, as he had been hurt and scared by one smaller. The pain hadn't been because of his lover's behaviour, but what he had read was a psychological reaction: he was simply so stressed and scared that he would painful clench around any intrusions.

Looking to Alfred's hand, then his face, the Briton waited, unsure of what to think of his callused fingers tracing gentle circles in the soft skin of his thighs. His eyes darted from his face to his chest, and Arthur guessed the question before he asked, and chuckled. He was really acting like a child. "You want to touch them ?"

Alfred looked just like a deer as it was surprised by a racing horse, and the mage felt his shoulders shake with a chuckle he had to hold back. Soon enough, however, it was as if he had been given an unexpected honour or gift, and gently moved one hand to the skin, reaching gently, tracing the indents the constriction of the garments Arthur kept them into—the sewing and laces there was never failed to put red marks on his skin. Alfred's hands were strong and big, and the mage wished he could have some like these, and sighed gently as the rough skin met the almost porcelain-soft one of his breasts. Alfred explored one, then the other, his curiosity not unlike a child discovering something new, and Arthur smiled.

It had been long since anybody had touched him. The other man was gentle, his touches oddly delicate for a man who could cut another one in half from his broadsword without breaking a sweat, and the mage enjoyed it. His lover brushed a sensitive nipple, pulling him closer with his other hand, and Arthur looked down to see he was half-hard, but ignored it. If he felt all right with a little bit of fondling, Alfred's size made him nervous, and he could feel his body stiffen. No. Not tonight.

Alfred's index and thumb were rolling his nipple now, gently squishing it, and Arthur felt a tremor run down to his crotch, and groaned, feeling a natural reaction in his own cock, and pressed his hand to the other's wrist. "No... it feels good but... I don't want sex. I don't want... to get too bothered, okay ?" Deception was clear in Alfred's face, and Arthur remembered quickly he was still just an eager teen, and patted his knee. "You can still touch. Don't worry. Just... nothing too much. I'll tell you if it's too much okay ?"

His legs had moved under the pleasure, and he could see Alfred's eyes move to his small, somewhat erect cock, and he half-crossed his legs to hide it, prompting the warrior to look away with a nod. The boy was being remarkably nice, and Arthur guessed he could reward him, and pulled himself up for a soft kiss on his lips, parting them to allow him inside, and felt him kiss him eagerly. If he was less skilled, the almost gluttonous and insatiable way Alfred's kisses were always made him feel as if he was a fine meal he couldn't get enough off, something he had been starving for. A stark contrast with his previous lover, who's kisses were slow and yet passionate, as if he was taking his time to savour a wine from an exotic place.

Alfred's hands were on his breasts and ribs, and Arthur felt like a novelty, or as if he was discovering something new to him. He too, didn't resist touching Alfred's muscles, the thin body hair on his chest, and the hardness of his skin. Soon, the warrior left his lips to kiss his face and ear, but looked down as he felt Arthur's hand go down to touch the curly hair around his cock. His youth and eagerness made him hard and warm, but Arthur seemed more curious about the hair, and Alfred seemed to be a little pouty.

"He always shaved. Said it'd make it look bigger..." Smiling at the memory, there was some pain in his smile, yet Alfred didn't have the time to notice. "Not like he needed it. Or not like you especially would need such things."

"You want me to shave ?" the boy asked, and Arthur shook his head.

"I don't want another him." Gods, please. He didn't want that pain again. "I want you as you are."

Laughing, Arthur pulled him in a soft kiss, curling his fingers in the coarse blonde hair, their lips meeting a slow, loving kiss. There was something soft and sugary about it, and Arthur felt soft shivers under his skin, his fingertips finding some of the same sort under Alfred's muscles. Pulling away as he started to touch him, knowing how a cock felt in one hand already, but curious to see how this one felt. It almost jumped in his hand, and Alfred moaned, breath hitching. The poor boy... he was just a teen, and Arthur pitied him a little.

"I'll help you. You... don't need to help me. I'm fine and I don't want to, okay ?" His cock didn't really come anyway. Looking down as he pressed himself a little closer to Alfred's shoulder, he felt him nod as he started stroking him, noticing how it was longer, but not as thick. Length was apparently not as good as width, and the Briton pulled him in another kiss, drinking his tiny moans and groans eagerly, smiling as he touched the head to use the leaking pre-cum to make the stroking easier. Alfred was definitely masturbating; he was just another teen after all, and the mage felt his hands gently squeeze his breasts, his cock pressed against his hand as he rutted against it.

Alfred took only a minute or two to come, staining the floor next to them. Arthur turned around to look at it, and gave a smile as his friend seemed much more like the shy maiden he had thought him out to be, looking at him with a rather adorable surprise. Pulling his hands off of himself, he reached for his bags to fish out his blanket, and turned to Alfred. "Get the mattresses. I'm tired... we can sleep and cuddle." It sounded like something nice after what they had done.

Alfred seemed a little taken aback by his somewhat cold behaviour, but Arthur smiled.

"Did I uh, did I do anything wrong ?" he asked.

Arthur shook his head. "No... don't worry." Laying down on his mattress, Arthur pulled Alfred's against his own, and patted it to have him come over, seeing the warrior cover himself and the other in his own thick blanket, apparently guessing without him having to talk that he didn't want too much touching. Or for him to see what was inside his pants—not yet. Snuggling against the other's chest, Arthur closed his eyes as Alfred let him use his thick arm as a pillow. The fire was a novelty from the last few nights, and the mage felt himself finally fall asleep, feeling his lover's arm hold him close.

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 _Favourites are okay. Comments are great._

 _Keep in mind writers do it for free, by passion, but if there is no feedback, it kinda sucks._

 _More to come._


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